Dirty Road: ACAB
by chopponx
Summary: Trevor/OC. *adult themes ahead* Two Canadians desperately flee the country after a world of trouble. Bound for Los Santos and nowhere else to go Sean reaches out to his old friend Franklin to help him and his lady friend, Max. Franklin enlists the help of Michael and Trevor. Max takes a liking to Trevor as her and Sean continue their lives in a new city.
1. Chapter 1

I'm re-posting this story since I've found the original version I thought was lost! In a haste to post something I re-wrote a crappy version. Here's my original version! I haven't written in a long time. I started reading stories here again since I was a teenager and got the urge to post something. Hope it's not too awful to read!

*small update, I've revised the chapter after re-reading and fixing some errors, no change to the story though* 

**CHAPTER ONE**

You know that feeling when you wake up after a long night of drinking and only slept for a few hours? This is a reoccurring feeling for me lately. It's how I feel at this current moment. It's not fun.

"How much did I drink last night?" I asked, slouching painfully hungover in the front passenger seat of a crummy '98 Tercel I bought for $300.00.

"Too much. I told you to stop so you punched me," my serious sounding friend grumbled almost too quietly for me to hear over the ringing in my ears.

We were parked on a busy street somewhere in Los Santos. I have only been here once when my associate's Father died. It was a gloomy trip fueled by drugs and alcohol in celebration of the passing. I couldn't stick around and watch. Normally we looked out for each other when we partied really hard, but he had a lot of old friends to keep him from going too far so I decided to find my own party. I never met his Father, but I was told he was a raging piece of shit. I thought it was best to let Sean grieve with people from his past who understood better than I.

This trip is different. Things took a turn for the worst for me and I had to get as far away from Canada as possible. I guess it was all my fault, but when something isn't right you do something about it, whether others want you to or not.

"I don't see him yet."

I looked at my long time friend. He must have had considerably less to drink than I did. If it weren't for him, I'd probably be dead. He got me through the boarder without alarming the authorities. I'm still impressed, I've tried sneaking across many times, unsuccessfully. The Americans don't want me in their country, so the few times I have crossed undetected was because of Sean.

"I must have blacked out, I don't remember anything. Is that why you have a shiner?" I asked noticing his black eye.

"Yes. You tried to beat me up but I got you in a head lock and calmed you down before you could hit me again."

He looked at the dash for the time and grumbled under his breath. He was never late for anything, and didn't appreciate it when others were. Which is why I made sure to always be early for him. It took us over two weeks and two cars to travel almost 4,500 kilometers, or somewhere under 3,000 miles. He was especially restless after all that.  
I could tell the trip started to wear Sean down several days ago. He's the sleep in a comfy bed, shower everyday type. I'm the shower when I REALLY need it, sleep anywhere type. I could just live my life on the road like we had done the past couple weeks but I owed Sean my life now, he would be deciding our next moves.

We slept in a shitty motel last night when Sean couldn't get a hold of his friend, Franklin. I noticed that the local corner store carried booze and made the decision to make the night a little more fun. Where we came from booze isn't as readily available as it is here in America. Unless we're in Quebec, the french speaking province, booze isn't sold in grocery stores or convenience stores. Just in booze specific department stores with shitty hours. I was in heaven. The last thing I remembered was straddling Sean in my underwear laughing like a hyena.  
Now heaven was a distant, blurry memory and with great haste I opened the passenger door and hurled on the sidewalk. That's better. A woman walking by looked at me with disgust, so I gave her the finger.

"I think I see him, I better go get him. Get in the back," Sean told me as I gently shut the door.

Without waiting for a response he was gone, so I crawled into the back. It's nap time. 

* * *

I knew I was late, but there wasn't much Sean and his friend could do about it. I forgot what car they'd be in so I walked around for a bit. Last time I saw Sean was when his Dad died. He always looked the same, so I knew it wouldn't be hard to recognize him. I think I might have met his friend back then but it's been several years now. She wasn't around much anyway. All I remembered of her was her mohawk and black clothes.

"Yo!"

"Hey, man. Good to see you," I replied, finally noticing him crossing the street at the lights.

It really was good to see him. We didn't always see eye to eye on things but he was probably one of the most level headed guys in our circle. It was sad seeing him leave Los Santos.

"It's good to see you too, how's it goin'? We're just parked over there," he said pointing to a shitty white car parked in a bus zone.

"I'm great. You look pretty rough yourself, how was the trip?"

Aside from needing clean clothes and a shave Sean looked the same as he had always been. Sometimes you meet white guys trying really hard to fit in with our crowd. They'll try so hard and act real tough but you can sense very easily how fake they are. He wasn't like that, he didn't try hard to fit in. Sean grew up in my neighbourhood so he just naturally fit into place. He'd always stick his neck out for us and didn't take any shit from the guys making fun of him for being a white wanna-be gangster. He was a solid guy.

"Fucked. We should have been here already but Max was pretty shaken up for the first while. I had to drive almost half way before she got her head together."

"I don't remember her much."

"Yeah, she came down with me when Dad died. She didn't stick around for the party, just for the wake. I'm not really sure what she did when she left the party, but you'll recognize her when you see her."

"Whatever she did up there she must be a solid chick for you to stick around with her," I said as Sean smiled and nodded solemnly.

Shit must have got pretty bad, he was always the neat and tidy looking type no matter what was going down, now he looked like a mess.

"Watch out for the vomit on the sidewalk," Sean pointed out as we came up to the car.

As I stepped around the puke I couldn't help but notice their car was in a very sad state. I should have just picked them up somewhere, I'll be damned if this car gets us to the Vanilla Unicorn to meet up with Michael and Trevor.

"Fuck off!" I heard from the back as we got in.

"It's just us, Max."

I heard mumbling as I sat down. I turned to say hello but she was curled up facing the back of the seat. She looked like she'd been living on the streets. That I definitely remembered.

"I remember her now,"I said turning back after I couldn't help but notice her butt peeking out from under her really short skirt.

"She doesn't exactly blend in with the crowd. Alright, which way? Everything is a lot different now I have no clue where we're goin'."

"The Vanilla Unicorn. Head that way." 

* * *

"Franklin says they're a bit late," I explained looking at the message on my phone.

"No shit, it's been half an hour. This better be worth it, I got work to do."

"Really? Like what?"

"Managing! This place doesn't run by itself, you know. Then I gotta go back to Sandy Shores, see Ron about this whole thing we're doing for Franklin and his friends."

"That's right. Why am I even here? I'm not playing games anymore."

I wasn't about to turn Franklin down when he asked for a favour. I guess I feel like I kind of owe him. Of all the people I know he's one of the few I can trust. He wouldn't bring me any bullshit I'll regret. I got up and headed for the back door to go outside for a smoke.

"Come on, maybe they're here already."

It was always a shock leaving that place during the day. A white car that sounded like it was going to break down any minute pulled up as my eyes adjusted to the light.

"Took long enough," Trevor remarked as I lit a smoke.

Franklin and, I'm assuming, Sean got out of the car as I took a drag.

"Better late than never," I said giving them a hard time, I didn't really have anything better to do.

"Sorry about that, I had to drop off my car at the shop. Fix the speedometer."

"You must be Sean. I'm Michael, this is Trevor. Wasn't there suppose to be one more?"

"Yeah, sleeping beauty is here in the back seat," Trevor pointed out staring with a creepy look into the back window of the car.

"You want to wake her up so we can get things done?" I asked Sean noticing him almost glaring at Trevor.

"Yeah, hold on. If I'm not careful she'll give me another black eye."

Sean opened the door and I realized why Trevor had been staring. Her ass was showing a bit. He crawled in and after a minute he climbed back out.

"She's comin'."

I took another quick drag of my smoke, watching this young thing in some amusement. This girl whom I was told is named Max emerged from the car. She was more beautiful than I had expected, especially since her attire wasn't anything like you'd normally see around Los Santos. Her clothes were dirty, full of holes and crudely sewn on patches seemed to keep her tiny skirt together. She had layers of ripped stockings held up with a garter. One thick studded belt seemed to keep her skirt up, and another hung loosely on her hips over another belt of bullets like you see around the shoulders of action heroes in movies.  
She reached inside to grab a leather motorcycle jacket and put it on. It was full of studs and patches. Her hair was half white blonde, half black, her skin covered in tattoos. Quite the impressive get up.  
I could tell she was taking her time to stand up, I could also tell she must have been drinking. She pulled herself up with the help of the car, swaying a bit in the process. I didn't know what to think about her expect that she was probably a lot of fun in bed. 

* * *

I couldn't help notice the two sets of eyes on me. The handsome older man in his fancy light grey suit was sizing me up differently from the grimy looking one. It was obvious he wasn't completely impressed with me but he was polite enough not to say anything. He was definitely the Michael in the stories Sean told me. The other looked like he had dirty thoughts racing through his head. His name wasn't coming to me so quick.

Despite still being inebriated and the world literally spinning around me I was sizing them up myself. I knew Franklin could be trusted, I'd always take Sean's word in judgement of character but he didn't know the others except for what Franklin told him.

Sean gave me a look, one I couldn't decipher at the moment, as he spoke with Franklin about his car in the shop.

I unzipped a pocket in my little fanny pack on my hip and fished for a smoke.

"Need a light?" asked the well dressed man as he held up a lighter for me.

"Thanks," I said with a smile.

As I went for the lighter I had a rush of the spins and I found myself in the arms of the grimy looking fella. It was all slow motion in my head as I almost fell to the ground. The thinning haired man sure had good reflexes.

"Oops," I said with amusement as I used the man holding me to straighten myself up and grabbed the lighter.

"You need me to carry you?" he asked.

I escaped easily from his grasp as I lit my smoke, shaking my head in response.

The grimy man gave me a good look up and down as he stepped back. I was glad he caught me, falling on my ass from still being a bit drunk and with the spins wouldn't have been a very impressive first impression. It was a bit flattering the way he looked at me though.

"How about we get inside and figure some shit out. I don't want to spend the whole day here," Michael said as he started for the door.

"We'll catch up with you guys in a minute, I'll help sleeping beauty find her way in," said the grimy one as he began to circle me.

I could tell Sean was hesitant but I gave him that look I always give him to reassure him I can handle myself. He knew I could but he had always been protective of me, especially lately since shit hit the fan. I heard the stories about this character and I was kind of intrigued by him.

"You must be, Trevor," I finally recalled his name.

"That is correct, Max. I hear you had a part in all that shit happening up in Canada."

Just thinking about it made my stomach churn. I felt my heart pound hard in my chest. A lot of people died and most of it was covered on the news so it wasn't a surprise Trevor was bringing it up.

"I'd rather not talk about it right now."

"Looks like you need a distraction, come on, let's get out of here. Your friend can figure everything out, I'll bring you back to him later. I've got a great cure for a hang over!"

I gave him a suspicious look as I took a drag from my smoke. I looked at the door the others had entered then back at Trevor who reached out to me invitingly.

"Alright, let's go," I caved easily and took his hand as I threw my smoke to the pavement.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

"Tell me, how close are you and Sean?"

"Pretty close."

There's something about this chick I really like. It's not just the clothes (or lack thereof), or her taste in good anarcho-punk and UK 82 bands as stated by the patches on her motorcycle jacket. Maybe it was her willingness to take my hand and never once seem repulsed by me. Those types are few and far between. I'm fully aware of the human being I am. It takes a special kind of woman to understand me or to take my hand and allow me to lead the way.

She leaned towards the dash and pushed the cigarette lighter. The truck was old enough it still had a working one but I never used it for cigarettes. I had to get creative if I wanted to get more out of her.

"Alright, on a scale of sex with the lights off to dick in your asshole, how would you rate your closeness?"

"Interesting, let me think," she said with a smirk.

I waited patiently, yet eager for her reply. Whether or not I could entice her into my bed, or up against a wall was an unclear forecast but she was making it fun to try. The lighter popped out and she lit her smoke.

"I'd have to rate it blowjob in the back seats of a theater during a movie."

"HAH! You're a naughty one, I like that."

"Seriously though, we've been friends for a long time, since I was 15. There's not much we haven't done, but we're just friends," she said staring ahead at the road, smoking her cigarette.

To me it sounded like she made a point to mention, just friends, but maybe that was just me getting my hopes up. Life has settled down a lot for me lately, I could use a meat wallet in my life.

"Are you even legal drinking age?" I asked to make sure I could take her into a bar.

"What do you think?"

She was obviously not a teenager, but I wasn't really in the mood to deal with getting an underage girl drunk in a bar, even more so I really didn't want to have to bring her back to the Vanilla Unicorn. I'm there almost all the fucking time. I promised to bring her back to her motel at the end of the night, so leaving the city wasn't an option.

"You look young. Are you 20?"

"Nah, 26. I'm not gonna guess how old you are. How close are you with Franklin, and Michael?"

"I'd have to say, a rating of anal train."

She burst out laughing losing her smoke in the wind. An image of the three of us in an anal train materialized in my head and I joined in the laughter. We could put Franklin in the middle and we'd be like an opposite Oreo cookie.

"Oh my god," she said wiping tears from her eyes, as she tried to compose herself.

I stopped at a light and glanced in her direction. She caught my eyes, smiling sweetly at me. Seeing the kindness in her gaze threw me off. Then even more so when she gently she placed her hand on mine as it rested on the stick shift.

"Thanks. I really needed a good laugh," she said as she turned and went fishing for a replacement smoke in her fanny pack. I wondered what else she had in there.

I've had only a few great women in my life but none as young and pretty as her, that I didn't have to pay for. Better not scare her off on the first night, and so far so good.

"Stick with me, honey, and I'll make you feel real good," I said with a wink, stealing another smile from her with my charm.

* * *

I didn't know if I should panic or get really angry. It wasn't often Max just took off without saying anything. She usually timed it better but here we are, trying to find ourselves new lives, making promises to complete strangers and putting Franklin in a position to vouch for us. I didn't have the patience for this.

"Don't worry man, just hang out with me tonight and I'm sure she'll turn up eventually. How long you got that room?"

"Gotta be out by next Wednesday."

I felt sick, I'd been keeping things together for us for a while now and she went off with some dirt bag for some reason I couldn't possibly imagine. I should have expected it, she was always taking off with strange men and reappearing when she felt like it. This wasn't the time and place for that.

"Don't worry, Trevor is batshit crazy but he isn't gonna hurt her. Listen, it sounds like you got her out of a lot of trouble. You did your job. You got her somewhere safe, she doesn't need you anymore. If anything he'll bring her back or she'll find her way. Forget about her, dawg. Let's go have fun, it's been way too long."

He was right, I was getting upset for no reason and I had done everything I promised her. I wasn't her babysitter and she spent time with men just as bad or worse than him. It had been around 4 years since I last saw Franklin. We got ourselves to safety, the time to panic was over.

"You know what? Fuck her! Let's go!"

"That's the spirit, let's go find the old gang. Lamar said he'd be having some people over at his new place tonight. Hey, Michael, you wanna come with?"

"I've got a date with my couch and some hard liquor. You guys go have fun. If your friend turns up, give her my number," he said shaking his head as he finished his smoke and headed for his car, "see you guys later."

"Are those dollar sign rims?" I asked noticing the ridiculous car accessories as Michael got into his car.

Franklin and I had a good laugh at the old man's expense.

* * *

There was something strangely attractive about Trevor. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He wasn't an ugly man, or out of shape, but he definitely wasn't the most appealing to the eyes. If I saw him on the street he would barely cross my mind, but here we are and as I got to know him a bit he started to grow on me quickly.

The truck pulled to a stop and I gazed upward to a big flashy sign that read, "Happy Hour."

"Of course! Your cure for hang over is more booze. I should have known," I said cheerfully jumping out of the truck.

I finally became aware of the heat and took off my jacket placing it on the floor. Los Santos was not a place for black leather jackets during a hot summer day. He met me in front of the truck, brow furrowed, staring me down like I had said something offensive.

"Now you listen here, young lady," he said stepping closer to me, "I won't have you boozing me up and taking advantage of me. If you try anything, you're walking home," he said jokingly, ending with a boisterous laugh.

"Just kidding, take advantage of me all you want, beautiful."

"Oh, don't say that. I don't have any money and you brought me to a bar," I told him, implying that I really like to drink, which I do.

He laughed again then offered me his arm. Again I took his invitation and snaked my arm into his. We walked inside and headed for the bar.

"What is your desired poison?" he asked.

"A bottle of the finest, cheapest beer they have! Make that two, I'm double fisting tonight."

We took a seat at the bar as he placed our order with the bartender. She took his money, placed three beers in front of us, and opened them. I looked at a clock beside the shelves of liquor. It was just past 3 and I hadn't eaten anything the whole day. I looked at my beers hesitantly knowing if I drink on an empty stomach, with a faint inebriation lasting from the previous night, things could turn out quite poorly for me. Then I remembered the past few months. What harm could a crazy maniac like Trevor do compared to a bunch of dirty cops and a vengeful biker gang. It was unclear if things could get any worse for me but at the moment Trevor seemed to be genuinely interested in my friendship.

We spent the next several hours drinking and talking, left alone by most of the other vagrants and inebriated folk in the bar. The odd drunk would interrupt us but would soon be distracted by something else and pass on by. I was happy for the lack of drama since I really wasn't in the mood for any.

He told me about his company, Trevor Phillips Enterprises. How after he came into some money he was going to completely give up on it but decided against it. He made a friend of his president and put most of his time and energy into the Vanilla Unicorn. He helped out every now and then to keep busy, flying planes and helping his friend when needed. I guess this Ron fellow would be hiring Sean and I. I could sense he realized he had been doing most of the talking when he started asking me questions.

"Tell me why I should be hiring you, what kind of experience do you have?"

This was dwelling a little to close to a subject I didn't want to speak about, but I had to have my interview at some point or another.

"I was sort of in a club."

"A motorcycle club?"

"Yeah, that kind of club. I won't say which one. I didn't really want to be any part of it, but I was born into it. My Father owned a few businesses used for laundering money and I helped him out with that until I got older. When he passed away I started getting into the things he kept me away from. Thing is, I'm a girl. I wasn't anyone's old lady, I was just there. This club was especially sexist. A lot of the guys didn't want my help and made life pretty hard. If it weren't for Sean I don't know where I'd be now. Probably in a shallow grave. There really wasn't much anyone could do to kick me out though and as much as I wanted to leave, as much as they pretended like they wanted me to leave, they wouldn't let me. I've dabbled in everything you would assume a well established motorcycle club does."

"I hate clubs..." he started, then interrupted mid-sentence by the unnoticed oncoming drunks.

"This is the girl I was tellin' you about!" said a severely inebriated man as he swayed right into me, pulling a friend along with him, both taking no care of anything around them.

I took heed of Trevor's abrupt change in expression after I steadied myself. With his deadpan eyes locked on the rowdy men he sat and watched like he too was not in the mood for any bullshit tonight.

"What have you been saying about me?" I asked in a kind voice, attempting to keep the mood light.

"I was just telling, Al, you look like a young, hotter version, of Joan Jett, but more hardcore!" he spat as he spoke, thrusting a fist into the air as he said hardcore.

"Uh, thanks."

It seemed as though these men were harmless enough and Trevor got up, heading for the bathroom with a faint sway in his step. The two men invited me to a game of pool and but I declined. They asked me what music I liked to listen to and of course they had never heard any of it. After listening to a short list of their favorites I concluded that the only reason they knew about Joan Jett and the Runaways was because they were born before the 70s.

"You guys will have to excuse me, I need to take a piss," I said getting up, sneaking my way past them quickly before they could protest.

I kept my eye out for Trevor on my way, in case he had come back out but he was no where in sight. Maybe he had to drop a deuce.

* * *

What the fuck, I thought as I scanned the bar quickly for Max and the two drunk men. Did she seriously ditch me for a pair of old, overweight, greasy motherfuckers? She left almost without a second thought when I asked her to join me, did they convince her do the same with them?  
I continued further into the sea of drunks, scanning the busy bar. I found Al sitting with an old haggard lady as she cackled loudly in the distance. As I headed his way I instinctually turned to check my 6 and just before I started to head Al's way I saw her exit the women's lavatory and into the long dark hallway, lit with only one fixture-less, blinking bulb hanging from the ceiling.

Before I could even feel relieved that she hadn't ditched me, up sauntered Al's greasy friend, stopping her in her tracks. What are you gonna do, greaseball?

She made an attempt to walk around him but he was insistent to speak with her. I made my way through the obstacle of drunks, watching him back her against the wall with his intimidating girth. She was no longer trying to humour him with her friendliness and I could tell as I got closer she wasn't interested in his company. I was less than 10 feet away from them when he placed his hands on her hips and began leaning in closer like he wanted to get a kiss. Now she looked mad and before I had a chance to even quicken my pace, CRUNCH! Al's greasy friend snapped backwards, clenching his face. She head butt him right in the nose.

"Oh hey, Trevor," she said, pleased to see me, blood running down her face from her nose giving me that sweet, almost innocent, look she had given me before on the way here.

"The trick is to use your forehead when you headbutt someone," I explained to her as she pulled her shirt up to wipe her blood off.

"You win some, you lose some!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Holy fuck!"

I heard the familiar voice from across the room as Lamar push his way through the crowd towards me. I couldn't help but grin. Despite being gone for so long I never forgot my friends here, it was hard leaving them behind.

"Of all the people to last this long, I didn't think you'd be one of them," I joked as he grabbed my hand and brought me in for a hug.

"Shit, you still the same white boy, no faith in you're brother from another coloured mother."

"You've never given nobody a good reason to give you their faith," I joked.

"It's good to see you man, it hasn't been the same without you."

"I'll bet, you always needed me holding your hand through everything," I said smiling, looking around.

There were few familiar faces this time around it seemed. The old crew always kept getting smaller and smaller.

"Yeah, right. So, where's your punk rock lover? Did she come to party with us this time?" Lamar asked nudging me with his elbow.

He was probably the only one that gave her the time of day when we last visit. I wasn't sure what happened between them, neither would say, but Lamar was left with a lasting impression. For a while I thought they might have slept together but it wasn't long before Max proved that theory to be incorrect.

"I have no fucking clue where she went. Ran off with that guy, Trevor."

"Trevor? Is he her type? How'd you convince her to hang with you?"

"It's a long story, and you know I don't really feel like talking about her right now. I care about her but she drives me fucking nuts sometimes. Right now I want to forget how much I want to give her a good slap."

"Yeah, Lamar where are the drinks? We came for the party," Franklin chimed in.

"Come on, let's get you in a good mood, there's lots of fine women here tonight, lots of drink, and good tunes."

Lamar lead us to the kitchen which had been temporarily converted to a fully stocked bar for the night. His new place was impressive for Lamar standards.

"Let me guess, you still like your whiskey neat?"

"Yeah, you still like your girl drinks?"

"Hey man, women love that shit, they see a man drinkin' something fancy they think you're man enough to not give a fuck about what anyone else thinks."

"Sure, Lamar," Franklin said pushing him gently aside to fix himself a drink.

"So, why you back in Los Santos, brother?"

"Hey, we came here to get his mind off that bullshit, don't be bringin' it up right now."

"Alright alright, don't get your panties in a knot," said Lamar raising his hands in the air defeated.

I nodded at Franklin, appreciative of his help to make this night pleasant for me.

"How's the old crew doing? Is D still bumpin' with the Ballas? What about Stretch?"

"Things didn't end so well for either of them. Short story, Stretch killed D, Stretch switched sides and got himself killed," he said eyeing Franklin.

"Jesus christ," I said shaking my head.

"Doesn't matter where you go things are always bleak for guys like us," Franklin remarked.

"Man, don't you start talking about how bleak your life is set the way you are now."

"Is Trina still around?" I asked as Franklin shook his head again and took a sip of his drink.

Trina was my high school drop out sweetheart. Last time I was around she had a boyfriend and in my pathetic attempt to make her jealous I flaunted Max right in front of her. One of the many things I've done while I was young and stupid.

"I was waitin' for you to ask! Trina's doing good, she got a legit job workin' as a hair stylist at the local salon and guess what my brother, she's single!"

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad coming back to Los Santos after all.

* * *

I had them in my sights. Not far from my hiding spot they walked to and fro, minding their own business. I was more than fairly inebriated but I have always been good with a gun, it just meant I had to be more patient. Though, my judgement when it comes to how intoxicated I am is never really the same when I look back when sober again. As I laid on my stomach beneath a big bush I waited, searching for my target.

"I think something lives under hear," Trevor said rustling around next to me.

"Quiet."

I saw him. My target casually walked down the sidewalk across the other side of the one way street we hid next to, his attention completely on his phone. The world around him a distant concern from his mind. I took a deep breath, held him in the cross hairs and squeezed the trigger as I released the air from my lungs. With a loud snap the gun fired.

"OW! What the hell!?" yelled the target's voice in the distance as his attention snapped back to reality. Passers by gave him weird looks, assuming he was crazy.

Trevor let out a muffled snort, pleased I had made my shot.

"I told you I can shoot."

At some point Trevor and I had found a Red Ryder, a pump action BB rifle and decided to have some drunken fun with it. He let a laugh escape as he rolled onto his back and my target began looking around after inspecting his arm for what the hell had got him.

"Shhhh! He'll find us!" I said crawling on top of him, smothering him with my hands.

His struggle to hold in his laughter subdued quickly as I watched the target look suspiciously around himself, suddenly aware that he wasn't just stung by a bug or something. I felt Trevor's hands gently touch my hips and move to my butt.

"What ya doin', Trevor?" I asked as I felt him give me a good squeeze.

"I figured while you're here," he said smirking beneath me, there was something about that smirk that I liked.

"You'll have to be a lot more smoother than that," I said pushing away from him.

"HEY!"

The target had found us. I grabbed the BB rifle and rolled off Trevor. I quickly reloaded the rifle as the target stomped his way over. I pumped the lever, took a quick aim, and shot him again.

"What the fuck!?" he yelled.

Trevor and I crawled quickly out from the bush and ran the opposite direction, giggling like children. The obscenities the target yelled remained within earshot behind us, he was still in tow. He wasn't going to let it go. After about a block I noticed that Trevor and the target were gone, and assumed he must have purposely split up. I came around a corner and ran towards the dark underpass of the highway. Maybe the target caught up with him. I stopped under the highway realizing there wasn't much of another exit.

"Gross."

I had ran right into an small homeless village of sorts, I had seen similar places in the movies, but never thought actually existed. The aroma of garbage splayed everywhere was nauseating.

"Hey there, pretty lady," said a man to my right sitting by a small fire in an old, legless, charcoal barbecue.

With my attention towards him I smiled and began to leave. Normally these types of people were my people. I spent time on the streets, and made friends with others on the street. Most homeless I met were good people just shit out of luck, but these streets were new and it was night time. It's normally not a good idea to make new friends in the dark, wherever you are.  
Before I could stop myself I walked straight into a haggard looking man.

"Oh, sorry," I said stepping backwards, remembering I still had the BB rifle in my hands.

"Don't be sorry, baby. Hows bout you come a little closer."

His hair was long and matted, everything about him was dirty, and he smelled like he'd never once had a shower in his life. I could hear rustling all around me, and eyes appeared from within the darkness like in horror stories.

"Come here, I won't hurt you."

He reached out as he walked closer and before I could react quick enough I was grabbed from behind.

The smelly man behind me held my arms together, twisting the BB rifle out of my hands without effort. I wanted to panic and shake myself out from his grasp but I let him hold me and kept still to save my energy. The man I ran into raised his hand to my face and caressed me.

"Baby, you're lost, aren't you?"

I didn't reply, I always said the wrong thing in these types of situations.

"You don't have to be afraid," he said licking his lips.

I could hear more footsteps quickly approaching, I kept my attention on the man in front of me to find a chance to catch him with his guard down. The one behind me I could easily deal with.

"How about, you let her go."

I mentally sighed with relief, it was comforting to hear Trevor's voice. Without protest the men left quickly back into the darkness they came from. I didn't think Trevor was that intimidating. I turned around to see him holding a gun.

"Have you had that the whole time?" I asked.

"Yeah. Come on, let's get out of here."

With his hand on the small of my back he lead me out of the hobo village into the comforting glow of street lights and car headlights. I took note to steer clear of underpasses in Los Santos, especially at night.

"You need to learn these streets if you're going to work with me, there's some mean people in this city. You can't be friends with all of them," he said.

"Don't worry, I can usually handle myself."

"Usually."

"Aren't you retired?" I asked, but he chose not to reply.

As we turned onto a busy enough street he put his gun away, tucking it into the back of his pants and under his shirt. Before I knew it he had taken us back to another bar but now it seemed I was getting the silent treatment. I couldn't tell if I had said something wrong but I wasn't going to let him bother me. He ordered two beers and handed me one.

"I guess that makes you my knight in dirty armour," I said as I leaned backwards onto the bar, nudging him with my elbow.

He looked at me inanely and continued drinking his beer, leaning forwards against the bar. Something seemed to have crawled up his butt and was going to ruin the night by festering itself up there. I slid up against him, catching his attention.

"Thank you," I told him, genuinely.

He turned to look at me and I smiled.

* * *

That sweet smile of hers it was more intoxicating than all the drinks we had all night. It wasn't often I got that warm and fuzzy feeling inside. I don't know what she was trying to pull but it was working. She leaned in closer and kissed my cheek very slowly. I was stunned as I felt her hand move down my abdomen towards my pants. I didn't think she was the type to move that quick, at least that was the impression she had given.

"Those are the two I was talking about! They were shooting me with a fucking BB gun!"

I was ready to kill him. Max pulled away, propping herself up straight against the bar. I sighed and hung my head in my hands.

"It was a rifle," she said with a wink.

* * *

"Open the damn door!"

Startled, I sprang up in bed. Who the hell is banging and yelling at the door. I looked at the clock, 3:45am, and turned on the bedside lamp. The voice sounded faintly familiar so I got up and shuffled slowly to the door. I looked out the peep hole. Trevor.

As I unlocked and opened the door he pushed his way inside, Max draped unconscious and bloody over his shoulder.

"What happened!? Is she alright?"

"She's fine, she passed out."

"Why are you both covered in blood?"

"Ask her when she wakes up."

Trevor looked ticked off as he plopped her on the only bed in the room, turned and left without saying another word. The door slammed shut behind him. I looked at her sprawled out on the bed and shook my head. I re-positioned her without bothering to take her boots or belts off then climbed in beside her. I wasn't going to let them ruin my good mood.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

"Michael?"

I could hear her voice from inside the house through the open back doors. I really didn't feel like answering.

"Micheal?"

Maybe I should answer, before she yells.

"MICHAEL!"

"What?" I yelled, choosing not to move, the rays of sun paralyzing me with their warmth.

"There's someone here for you. I didn't want to let her in."

Oh shit. I placed my drink aside and climbed out of the lawn chair walking quickly towards the house, she could have sent my visitor around the back but I should have realized she wouldn't feel comfortable enough.

"Who is that, Michael?" she asked following me through the house on my heels.

"Uh, a friend. Of Trevor's," I said with my quick thinking, it was technically true.

"Why is she here? Trevor doesn't live here."

"She's looking to make some investments," I told her, turning to face her, "listen, she's in a rough spot, she just got here from Canada, don't give her a hard time."

"Why would I give her a hard time?"

"I dunno, she's young, and pretty. Dresses similarly to women on the evening."

Amanda gave me a stern look, placing her hands on her hips.

"I'm doing my best to trust you Michael, if a girl comes to our door smelling and looking like an alcoholic hobo I try to avoid jumping to conclusions. It's not like it happens everyday. I thought she was hear for Tracey, she always brings home the strangest characters to study with, but she's doing placement work now."

"Alright, sorry, I'm still trying to adjust. What I said is the truth though."

She eyed me as she twisted around slowly and left the room. I took a deep breath, in and out, trying to focus on something peaceful and went to the door. This working on my marriage thing was hard work.

"Hey, Max. Come on in, sorry for Amanda, she didn't know if she should let you in or not, I didn't give her a heads up. I'm sure you understand," I explained as I opened the door.

"It's okay, if I lived in a fancy mansion and someone like me came knocking I'd probably think twice before letting me in too."

"Follow me, my office is this way," before I continued on I observed a bit of bruising on her face and a cut, "what happened to you?"

"Oh, I kind of failed to head butt a guy creeping on me last night. On a separate occasion I had to fight off some disgruntled bar patrons."

"That guy creeping on you wasn't Trevor was it? If I had known you two would run off together I would have warned you first," I said motioning her to follow me up the stairs.

"Oh, no it wasn't Trevor. He was a gentleman," she said without a hint of sarcasm.

"Hah! I somehow doubt that," I chuckled as we walked into Jimmy's old room and my new office, "have a seat."

I walked around my desk, pulling out paperwork I had previously drawn up when Franklin had spoken to me about his friends coming down south. The plan was to make real estate investment with her. We could find something to purchase together and make a decent chunk of money back in a couple years.

"Alright, you have some money you want to invest. I'll need to know how much."

"Roughly $450,000.00, minus the amount we used to get here."

I looked at her in disbelief, but she appeared completely serious. I was planning for a something a lot smaller.

"If you don't mind me asking, how do you have so much money? Why don't you guys just get yourselves set up now, then worry about making money. I don't understand."

"Michael, I've helped to run three successful businesses for my Father even without cash flow from dirty money. I put in a lot of hard work, even more so to keep myself alive so I could have that money. You can't make money if you spend it."

I sat in disbelief. Trying to rethink a plan for her on the spot.

"I'll have to talk to some of my contacts. I'm no expert but I've had to become really creative with money. I'm moving towards a very legit way of earning money. This will all really depend on how you want to do this. I suppose everything will be done under Sean's name then? Considering you're here illegally."

"Yes, my name can't show up anywhere, it would be too much risk. At the moment, Sean doesn't know about the money, it has been fed into a Swiss bank account my whole life. There would be more but under unfortunate circumstances it is gone. If I could I would have given you a heads up. Truthfully, I've had all my focus on trying to keep myself together."

I could see a sudden change in her, as if her facade of being a tough, young, punk crumbled in front of me to show me a vulnerable, young, girl. She smiled weakly as she met my gaze then quickly focused on her hands as she fidgeted with them. I could see her eyes welling up with tears.

"Don't worry about it," I said getting up to walk over to her, "whatever you got yourselves out of is over. You're young, beautiful, and you have a lot of money. Helping you helps me."

I stopped by her side, resting my hand on her shoulder. She clasped her hands together tightly, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked crouching down beside her, I could see her emotions being restrained.

She sighed again and quickly wiped her eyes before looking at me. Her vulnerability almost completely disappearing from her face.

"I'm not a very emotional person anymore. I don't remember the last time I cried. I didn't even cry when my Dad died, I don't know why I'm apologizing for it."

"If you don't want to tell me just say so, but what happened before you guys left?" I asked taking a seat in the other guest chair.

She sat their contemplating what to say to me, staring blankly for a moment. All I knew was that there was a motorcycle club involved and they had to leave quickly.

"Maybe one day I'll explain. My whole life I've been surrounded by bad men, and dirty cops. I guess I couldn't get out fast enough before it escalated the way it did."

"I'll tell you one thing, I can certainly relate. Why don't you and Sean come out for dinner tomorrow with Amanda and I. Change the pace of things for you guys. Get dressed up, have a shower."

"Are you saying I smell bad?" she asked with a smile.

"Yes, I'm saying you smell bad. Go relax, be yourself again. Spend some of your money. I promise you we'll make it back."

Max looked like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She smiled sweetly at me as we got up to leave.

* * *

I leaned against the door frame and readjusted my ball sack. A hot sticky night was no friend of my genitalia. After waiting a few minutes I decided to knock on the door again. I was too hot to be impatient and my body ached from the night before. The door finally opened.

"Hey, honey. You could have let yourself in," greeted the platinum blonde inside.

"Uncle Trevor needs your help," I pleaded as I walked inside to the air conditioned apartment.

Juliet wasn't dressed to impress tonight, donning an over sized shirt and some panties. I'd been here enough, it seemed she didn't feel like she had to show herself off anymore, she worked hard enough doing that at the club anyway. I took a seat on the couch as she went into the kitchen.

"You look bummed out, boss," she called as I heard her opening the fridge.

"Just tired. Hurry up and come here."

She reappeared with a beer in hand and walked over. She wasn't going to fuck around, that's what I liked about this one. As she handed me the beer she lowered herself onto her knees.

"You look a bit roughed up."

I leaned back, sipping my beer as I felt her hands grasp my thighs, then moving upwards to undo my pants. I didn't feel like chatting.

"Normally you're already happy to see me. Something must be wrong."

I grunted and closed my eyes to focus on trying to get it up. Juliet is always good to me. Didn't matter what mood I was in, she could handle it. Sometimes if I was being too much of a prick she'd kick me out and keep my clothes. Other times she knew just what I needed.  
I felt her climb into my lap and pull my beerless hand towards her. She slipped my thumb in her mouth and gently sucked as she moved her hips in my lap. With a wet pop she took my thumb out of her mouth.

"There we are."

* * *

I found myself outside a building with neon lights flashing HAPPY HOUR. I was over an hour early but after a talk with Max I felt I needed time to sit and reflect.

Being back with old friends and having her somewhere safe started to settle in during the party. I was always planning on coming back, but I never got serious about it. For a while I thought I was in love with her, but as she opened up her world to me I saw she didn't want love. She had done as much for me as I've done for her, and she had given me a reason to come home.

I took a lonely seat at the bar and ordered a neat whiskey. I couldn't understand why she didn't tell me about the money. I wouldn't take any of it or ask for any. It was hers, but the least she could have done was buy a decent car to get us down here. It wouldn't have taken so long if she wasn't fixing them all the god damn time.

I sighed and shook my head, I always had to make friends with people that did things the hard way.

"Sean?"

"Trina, I'm really glad you came! You're early," I said getting up, not knowing if I should shake her hand or give her a hug.

"I'm glad I did too, it's really great to see you again," she said coming in for a hug.

As we parted she stepped back taking a good look at me, she smiled shaking her head before taking a seat beside mine.

"You haven't changed a bit, you know."

Everyone always said that. The way she said it sounded like it was a good thing. Why the hell do I feel so nervous.

"You've changed a lot, you aren't the young girl I saw last time."

She was always beautiful, but now she seemed more comfortable with how she presented herself. When she was young she went through so many phases it was hard to keep up.  
I was even more glad to be back with Trina still around.

* * *

3 days and 4 nights of none stop partying had finally come to its end as I walked up the pathway to my home. If I hadn't been snorting speed, drinking, and chain smoking seemingly none stop the whole time maybe I would have noticed the mangled For Sale sign strewn across the equally mangled front lawn. My brain was ready to shut down for as long as I'd let it, but first I had to get inside, take the dog for a walk, and then climb up the stairs to crawl into bed. I paid no attention to the evidence of a large vehicle having had its way with my property. I was on a mission for sleep, and my brain would allow nothing else except for the care of the dog, a sheppard, border collie mix, whom had been in the care of Sean while I was away.  
I fumbled with my keys, my vision blurred from exhaustion, until I realized the door had been kicked in.  
My heart began to race and my whole being was no longer in need of sleep. I looked around behind me, up and down the street. There were no parked cars on the road, and everything seemed normal. Everyone was gone for work.  
I pushed open the door slowly, keeping my feet on the front porch. My first reaction was to call for my dog, Wez, but I was frozen in place. I could already see the damage. I wanted to run in the opposite direction knowing if I headed inside there could be serious repercussions, but a curious force began tugging me within. The side table that normally housed my revolver laid smashed to pieces on the floor. The drawer had been wrecked and the former contents spread around the entryway. There was no gun.  
I could easily see into most of the first floor from the front door, and there were no signs of anyone down there. I continued towards the kitchen, walking quietly around the rubble. Aside from the revolver it looked like nothing was taken so far, only destroyed.  
The kitchen was worse than the living and dining room. I continued on to the last room, my office and winter time bike shop. My eyes immediately fell on the empty gun cabinet then to the Japanese motorcycle I had been working on laying on it's side. All the guns were gone.

I went up stairs after grabbing the biggest wrench I could find in my tool chest, and quickly scanned the rooms. The doors were all open and there was still no sign of Wez. I was ready to scream his name when I heard a slow panting from my room at the end of the hall. Without a second thought I rushed into the room.

"You've got an impressive loot," he said gesturing with my revolver.

It wasn't the first person I suspected, but it was one of them, and he was sitting on the end of the bed, Wez at his feet in a small pool of his own blood. I couldn't tell how badly he was hurt.

"I thought I knocked him out hard enough the first time."

Without his uniform he looked completely unnatural. He slowly sat up off my bed and began walking towards me, if I was going to help Wez I had to get out before I ended up beside him. I booked it down the hall, he wouldn't be able to do anything if I got outside. I could hear his boots stomping right on my heels and before I knew it I was tumbling violently down the stairs. I landed on my upper back at the bottom, smacking my head against the floor at the same time. A kaleidoscope of lights flashed before my eyes and as my vision became blurred I realized I had fallen into shards of a broken mirror. Doubles of my intruder grinned devilishly down at me as he walked down the stairs towards me. My body couldn't handle any more and I began to feel nauseated.  
All I needed to do was get outside, only a few meters away. I rolled over in the glass then clawed my way across the floor towards the front door. My body screamed with protest right before I blacked out but my mind sighed with relief seeing what I hoped was a familiar pair of shoes. Sean always wore red Converse, it had to be him.


End file.
